Heart on His Sleeve
by Frostoria
Summary: When guilt drove Draco Malfoy to live among Muggles, he accepted the fact that he might remain alone forever. Poring his life into research, he gave up on love until a Muggle girl showed him it's not over.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry this is so short; this is just an intro. It'll get longer, I promise!

**Chapter 1**

He's a genius; at least, to them he is. Magic tends to make these things easier, not that it means he doesn't work hard. Even if he is…better than them. Every second he tried to fill with work so he wouldn't have to feel the void she left behind, the guilt nagging at the back of his mind. He was wrong if he thought a new life would make the memories go away.

All this was some kind of foolish atonement that even he could not make sense of. Those filthy Muggles, how he hated them, so ignorant, scurrying back and forth with nothing to do but gossip. Now he's trapped in his self-banishment, made to live among them. He supposed he deserves that much.

He wore elaborate masks; he was used to fineries, expensive jewels glittering coldly in the sunlight. No one knew where he came from, or even what he looks like, since he never took the masks off. Of course, the paparazzi loved this, the wild rumours and speculations. The most obvious possibility is that he's glaringly grotesque, having to hide behind those masks. But not many believes this; from his slicked back white-blond hair to his aristocratic walk and the way he held himself, it's obvious he's used to getting what he wants and most definitely deserves. So why? As reporters fired question after question at him, he just smiled his condescending smile, full of mockery, and refused to reply. That was part of his self-imposed punishment to, to be civil, at least to their faces. Most of them were too full of themselves to get his thinly veiled insults, his sarcasm, anyways.

Strange – well, maybe not, under the circumstances – but he didn't bask in the glow of their praise, the admiring, even lustful looks the women gave him. Even the mask didn't turn them off; if anything, the mystery seemed to draw them closer. It had nothing to do with them being Muggles, this aversion. Usually, he lived for that surge of power he gets when an attractive woman gives him an appreciative glance, Muggle or no.

_This guilt is getting to me too much!_ He thought angrily to himself. _Why should the death of a foolish girl matter so much to me?_

He never thought he would miss her until she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_*Three years ago*_

He had been trying to ignore her – unsuccessfully – for two weeks now, but she can't seem to take a hint. Pansy Parkinson probably didn't know it was possible for a guy to not want her. Or she's just incredibly dense. Either way, she's really starting to annoy him.

A rare day without Crabbe and Goyle; going around was much less conspicuous without the two bumbling oafs, and the less noticeable he is to Pansy, the better. On his way back to the Common Room, he stepped around the corner and there she stood with her back to him, questioning a fourth year Hufflepuff, probably demanding to know if the girl had seen him. He's not going to sneak around, let her turn him into a sniveling coward. Nonetheless, he sincerely hoped that neither she nor the girl had seen him as he turned the opposite way.

No such luck. The Hufflepuff evidently pointed him out, as he heard an earsplitting "Drakie!" before she flung her arms around him. Turning back around, careful to keep his face neutral, he said, not quite meeting her eyes, "Pansy. What a …surprise." Adding a mental note to kill the Hufflepuff later.

Something resembling hurt flitted across her face, but that can't be it; she must be annoyed that her greeting wasn't so warmly returned, at looking bad in front of others. But whatever it was, it quickly passed, as she smiled seductively, whispering in his ear, "Let's go to your room and have some fun. I have something to tell you."

Giving up, he let her drag him to the common room and up to the boys' dorm. No one batted an eye; they were a common enough sight, Slytherin's elite couple. They weren't even fully through the door before her lips met his with an intensity that melted away his annoyance and scared him at the same time; an alien feeling rose up inside him, but he didn't want to think about what that means. He's not ready to find out what it would mean, giving his heart away. He responded vigorously, backing her against the wall, running his hand through her hair. _It's just lust…nothing more…_

When she drew them apart, he barely registered the fact that they had stopped kissing, until it occurred to him that she had said something. _I love you. _She waited expectantly for a reaction, a reply. When none came, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable, poorly hidden by her angry pout as she demanded, "Well, aren't you going to say something?"

When their families had pushed them together, he wasn't' entirely against the idea; union with another noble, pureblood family was good for their reputation and status, and Draco Malfoy had been trained young to accept what's best for his family. And regardless, she seemed smitten with him, and he liked how it made him feel important, worthy. But love? That's a thing for fairy tales, for Muggle filth they call "movies". And what if he does? Malfoy men don't do displays of affection; he also learnt that from his father.

"What's there to say?"

Maybe he shouldn't have said that. The colour drained from her face and there's the faint glimmering of tears in the corner of her eyes. A sudden surge of anger flared up; what right does she have to say a thing like that so blatantly sudden, and then expect him to reciprocate! "You want the truth?" Crying, it's just to elicit sympathy. Well, it won't work this time. "I'm only with you to make my parents happy. You mean nothing to me." A lie, but he wanted to hurt her.

Red flooded back to her cheeks, her eyes blazing; he had never seen her that angry, not at anyone, especially not him. "Nothing? I gave you my virginity!" he didn't know that. "I'm…" Her voice faltered. "I'm – I'm sorry I didn't realize you're such a bloody bastard!"

Remorse bubbled up as he watched her run out the door, but he pushed it back. She'll get over it.


End file.
